


Terran Physiology

by nhasablog



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Crack, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 16:04:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11763438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nhasablog/pseuds/nhasablog
Summary: “We’re losing him!” Gamora called in panic, to which Drax retorted, “He is right there.” Groot was doing some sort of helpless dance in the middle of the room, shrieking, “I am Groot!” in a less than cheerful manner.Peter was very very confused.(Or, Normal Terran things that Peter does confuse the other Guardians, and it leads to interesting and somewhat stressful situations.)





	Terran Physiology

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever attempt at a Guardians of the Galaxy fic, and I hope you’ll like it!

Peter could feel several pairs of eyes on him, and it would’ve alarmed him had this not become a common thing. He glanced up and met Gamora’s gaze briefly, and she at least had the decency to look away. Drax, Rocket and Groot on the other hand.

He sighed and placed his nail clippers on the table before him. “What is it  _now_?”

“Why are you cutting off pieces of yourself?” Rocket demanded, looking genuinely concerned for his sanity.

“What are you-” Peter cut himself off, looking down at the remains of his fingernails now covering the table (he was going to clean it up later, okay?). “You mean this? Don’t you cut your nails where you come from?”

“No,” they all said, though Groot’s reply sounded a little different, but Peter got the sentiment. “Why would we do that?” Rocket continued, throwing his hands up as if offended by the thought.

Peter leaned back in his chair. “So they won’t get too long and bother you or rip off in a painful manner?”

They all just stared blankly at him, and he realized that neither of them knew what the hell he was talking about.

He shook his head. “Forget it. I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t observe me when I was doing mundane tasks. It’s getting annoying.”

“How are we supposed to know when what you’re doing is mundane and when you’re actually sick?” Gamora asked, and Peter met her gaze again.

“I think it would be a little obvious if I was in pain or whatnot.”

“It’s not always,” she protested. “You’re stubborn. You can’t deny that. I wouldn’t put it past you to keep an injury or an illness from us until it became too much.”

He crossed his arms, his defensiveness dying on his tongue when she sent him a look. “Fine. I wouldn’t put it past me either. But cutting your nails is normal, I swear.”

They all looked doubtful, but they let it pass for now. Life continued.

* * *

 

“Where is the first aid kit?!” Gamora roared, and Peter saw a flash of green as she flew toward him.

“Do we even have a first aid kit?!” Rocket bellowed back, and Peter caught sight of him as he all but threw himself toward what they had temporarily named the medicine cabinet, which was really a very messy box in the corner.

“We must have!” Gamora yelled much too close to his ear, and he found himself recoiling. “Stay with me, Quill!”

“What the hell are you- hic!”

“We’re losing him!” Gamora called in panic, to which Drax retorted, “He is right there.” Groot was doing some sort of helpless dance in the middle of the room, shrieking, “I am Groot!” in a less than cheerful manner.

Peter was very very confused.

Gamora grabbed his face, her fingers forcing his eyelids open, even though they were already very much open. “Quill, don’t you dare.”

“Dare wha- hic!”

“Quill!” Gamora turned toward Rocket as he ran up to them with the box, which was way too big for him to hold properly. “What do we have?”

“Bandaids, some sort of liquid medicine for coughing, drugs for headaches-”

“That’s not good enough!”

“What am I supposed to do? Wave a magic wand and make something better appear out of thin air?”

“You don’t even have a wand,” Drax said, and Peter stood up so suddenly that Gamora almost fell over.

“Can someone please- hic! -explain what the hell is going on?!”

“We don’t know!” they all screamed. “You’re choking on something,” Gamora continued. “Or something! Can’t you tell?”

“Wha- hic!”

“There it is again!”

“That?” Oh, everything made sense now and Peter didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. “That’s just hiccups.”

It was as if the whole room just froze. “Hiccups?”

“Yes, hiccups. It’s a normal Terran thing to get.”

Everyone visibly relaxed, or at least outwardly. Peter was still lowkey freaking out in his head, and he was sure it was worse for them.

“I’m going to  _kill_ you and your stupid Terran body!” Rocket suddenly said, taking a threatening step toward him that only scared Peter a little bit. “You keep doing these things and making us think you’re dying.”

“It’s not my fault you start panicking over everything! I don’t freak out when you do your weird raccoony things-”

“What did you call me?!”

“-or when anyone else does things I don’t do. Look, we’re a team and yes, we look out for each other, but we gotta trust that the other people know what they’re doing. If I threw a fit each time someone did something unusual in my eyes I would’ve died of a goddamn heart attack a long time ago.”

“We’re trying to  _prevent_ you from dying, Quill.”

“Yes, Gamora, I know. And I appreciate it. But it’s getting a little old, and quite frankly, stressful.”

“So give us a crash course on Terran physiology.” She’d sounded so genuinely enthusiastic when she’d said it that Peter didn’t have it in him to protest, which had been his initial reaction. “That way we can make sure you don’t die, but won’t focus on the wrong things.”

Peter crossed his arms. “And what exactly would a crash course entail?”

“Shows us how we can tell if you’re choking on something or if you’re in pain or how to fix your shoulder if it breaks.”

“And how big something has to be to block your airway, and what parts of your body you need to protect more than others, and how many ribs you actually need in order to live.”

“What-”

“And how many degrees one would have to turn your neck in order to snap it, and what this weird hole on your belly is good for, and why you keep blocking our hands when we try to touch you.”

“Is it a method of defense? Are we reaching for an area on your body that is more vulnerable than the rest?”

Peter had a hard time replying, because in the midst of all their questions they had surrounded him and were now touching him wherever they could reach, and some spots Peter could handle better than others. He swallowed back laughter as they tried to touch his ribs and stomach, his body automatically choreographing a dance in order to get away from the prodding fingers. Maybe he would’ve been able to get away with it if tickling was something that only occurred on Earth, but it wasn’t, and Gamora understood rather quickly.

“Oh!” She smiled in relief, shaking her head as if she was being silly. “You’re ticklish. That’s why you do this.”

“Yes, okay, I aham.” He tried to bite back his laugh again, but Drax had grabbed his arm and was inspecting the area under it with one finger. “Now stohop it, I can’t give a crash course like thihis!”

“As if you were ever gonna give us a crash course,” Rocket replied, dangerously close to his socked feet.

“I am! Just get away from mehehe-”

“Oh, he’s giggling. Is that normal?”

“Totally normal,” Gamora replied, and Peter could’ve sworn she winked at him. “Hey, Groot, you wanna inspect his neck to make sure nothing’s stuck in his throat?”

This was gonna be a long day, but at least his hiccups were gone.

* * *

 

“Quill.”

Peter woke up with a start. “Wha- Gamora? What’s wrong?”

“You’re making weird noises in your sleep. Is that normal?”

Peter blinked, his eyes taking in his surroundings once they got used to the darkness. “What noises?”

Gamora waved her hands around where she was sitting next to him on the couch. “These-” She made a sound that would’ve been hilarious had Peter been more awake, but in his still half asleep state he couldn’t find the energy to laugh.

“That’s snoring,” he replied, attempting to sit up a bit to get a better look at her. They were alone in there, and the last thing Peter remembered doing before passing out was trying to pick a song on his walkman, which was now resting neatly on the table. “You do that sometimes when you’re in a deep sleep.”

“Oh, you were in a deep sleep?” She sounded genuinely alarmed and Peter had to grin. “I’m sorry for waking you. I wasn’t sure if you were choking to death or something.”

“It’s all right. I never did give you that crash course.”

“That’s partly our fault.” Her smirk almost made him blush, and he couldn’t help but to breathe out a laugh.

“Is it late? I mean, are the others asleep?”

“Rocket is still up.”

“Is it my turn to drive?”

“Not yet. You still have a few more hours to sleep.”

“Maybe I should go do that in my own room, where I can die in peace.”

Gamora slapped him lightly on the arm. “Not funny.”

Peter laughed again. “I just think it’s a bit endearing how worried you all get. I would almost suspect you guys like me.”

“Keep dreaming, Quill.” But she was smiling, so Peter didn’t take her seriously.

“I would if you let me sleep.”

“I’ll let you choke on your snores next time.”

“Keep dreaming, Gamora.”

He didn’t expect her hand to find his side, but it did, and he jerked away with a laugh when it squeezed. “Don’t taunt me.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Jeez, I’ll never live that down, will I?”

“Not if I can help it.”

He didn’t entirely mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my [tumblr](http://nhasablog.tumblr.com) for tickle fics.
> 
> Here's my [tumblr](http://nhasasideblog.tumblr.com) for non-tickle fics.


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